


Take Me Apart

by boringgreen



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Daddy Kink, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Married Life, Sexting, Size Difference, Size Kink, Trans Ignatz Victor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28252407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boringgreen/pseuds/boringgreen
Summary: Ignatz and Raphael have been together and married happily for years, but an accidental confession mid-sex brings them even closer together, if such a thing is possible.Art in Chapter 1 is provided by the talented, lovely, and kind-hearted Rhys (@softmatchabun on Twitter and ichigobun here on AO3)! Please check out both their art and written works!
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Mercedes von Martritz, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro, Astraphobia - Relationship, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Edelgard von Hresvelg/Bernadetta von Varley, Raphael Kirsten/Ignatz Victor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	Take Me Apart

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Ignatz and Raphael both refer to Ignatz’s genitals in femme-coded language, but Ignatz is trans in this fic. If this is upsetting, please do not feel obligated to read further!
> 
> Wow, y’all, it’s been a MINUTE since I last posted! My goal is to have another chapter of my main fic up by next week sometime, and this will be sporadically updated until completion in the new year!

To say everything was going wrong was an understatement.

First, Ignatz slept through his first _two_ alarms, which was unlike him; he simply rolled out of bed and spritzed some heavily-fragranced dry shampoo in his hair and threw on one of his classic button-ups and a gross pair of sweatpants for his virtual meetings with some clients.

Of course, there was a problem—a huge, catastrophic problem. A problem most sane people would consider a minor inconvenience.

There was going to be a thunderstorm. A _dry_ storm.

Ignatz had been going to therapy at his husband’s behest ever since he was covered under Raphael’s hefty health insurance plan, and to his own credit, he’d made strides in several aspects of his life. But, he still had quite a ways to go when it came to his astraphobia.

Dr. Martritz assured him that, no matter what was happening, or what he was scared of, his feelings were valid, and she always remarked, “You are always allowed to feel, especially in my office!” Her eyes would crinkle closed and she would tilt her head in a gentle smile, and like clockwork, Ignatz would sigh in relief. She had mentioned that he was allowed to text her in case he wanted another virtual visit, but he felt as if he were a bother. He wasn’t her only client, after all.

Of course, to make matters even more difficult, Raphael was already at work by the time he woke up. He didn’t even get the chance to make him breakfast, or kiss him goodbye. Raphael always knew just what to say to comfort him when the storms were brewing outside. Raphael just always knew what to say in general. He would probably scoop him up, and say something like, “Ah, don’t worry, Pumpkin! Everything will be just fine, ‘cause I’ll take care of you!” And, inevitably, Ignatz’s hems and haws and little huffs would be squeezed from his frame as his ever-jovial husband plastered him with hugs and kisses.

Raphael gave and gave and gave. He always remembered the littlest things, like how Ignatz liked to categorize things by color on the creaky bookshelves of their home, or lay out a backup outfit for him if he splattered paint or ink on his pants. Raph would even mention something in passing Ignatz had told him as a child (and sometimes he had no recollection of it himself), and he always looked at Ignatz like he was the most precious thing in the world.

It made him feel guilty. _Insanely_ guilty.

Did he give nearly enough back? IT was steady work, sure, and his little passion projects here and there provided a nice financial cushion every once in a while, but did Raphael think it was all too dull? Surely his line of work was boring in comparison; after all, Raphael’s encouragement helped people hone their own inner strengths, and he was always so sweet with all his clients. It was easy to see how he was one of the most sought-after trainers at Leonie’s gym. If he was half as patient with his clients as he was with Ignatz, why—

“Oh, I must be frozen! Ugh, stupid Bernie! I knew I should have rebooted my router before this meeting!”

Ignatz snapped back to the virtual meeting at hand and covered his mouth before unmuting himself.

“Oh my, I am so sorry; my audio has been having issues all day! You sounded robotic for a second there!” Ignatz lied. (And even though it was a little white lie, he still felt guilty.)

“O-Oh! Oh that’s okay!” Bernadetta squeaked, pulling at her sweatshirt strings and scrunching her periwinkle hoodie around her neck. “What was the last thing you heard?”

“Uh, Sylvain had _just_ started combing over the rough sketches I provided last week, and had a question about the first panel on page 43.”

Sylvain leaned down to unmute himself, only to say, “Honestly, that was my mistake. I realize now that I was just being kind of dumb and… I read page 43 before page 42 by accident!”

Bernadetta and Sylvain allowed the conversation about character dialogue to ping pong back and forth between the two of them, and Ignatz silently thanked them for it. Ignatz tried his damndest to assure everyone that he _was_ paying attention, and that he most certainly was not wiggling his foot against the desk leg and shaking the monitor slightly because he heard the whisper of far-off thunder outside.

Besides, this meeting was concerning a passion project of his; it should be easy to show how interested he was in everyone’s ideas! He would be providing the art for his friend, Bernadetta Varley, in their shared graphic novel venture, and he’d spent several evenings dedicated to sketching, painting, and dabbling in his tablet once again.

Bernie was a dear friend, and Ignatz always appreciated how she bore her soul in her works, but he would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn’t secretly relieved when she ended the meeting early and that Sylvain said he would follow up with Bernadetta directly if he had any further questions.

He was thankful that he’d have the whole day to work from home, but Rockwell’s yowling reminded him that it wasn’t just _him_ that was scared of the storm. Rockwell hid under Ignatz’s computer desk, his long, gray coat and wide amber eyes making him look more like a terrified dust bunny than a cat.

“Me too, Rocky, me too,” Ignatz said, wiggling his toes in his tube socks to lure Rockwell into playing with him, but Rockwell remained hunched over and in what Raph referred to as the “loaf” position, though he was anything but calm.

A wild ripple of thunder shook the little house, and Ignatz covered his ears.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry!” Ignatz whimpered to himself out loud to little avail. Rockwell’s fur stuck out in all directions, and he wrapped around Ignatz’s shaky foot.

He at least had the wherewithal to glance at his phone.

_Love you, Iggy. On my way home! Be prepared to be spoiled!_

Ignatz smiled weakly, still keeping his hands over his ears and wiggling his legs.

The gym was a 5 minute walk on his little legs, but Raphael walked _fast_ , so he’d probably be home even faster than that. But this was a dry storm; what if lightning struck Raph on his way home?

Ignatz barely registered that Raphael had even come home, even though he heard the tell-tale jingle of his keys and his whistle through the door. Rockwell scampered underneath the kitchen table and Pirate jumped up on his desk. Ignatz yelped as the clumsy cat stepped on his keyboard; he scrambled to place Pirate back on the ground, even after he let out a dejected “ _prrrrrweow!_ ”

“Hey Pumpkin!” Raphael squinted when he smiled down at Ignatz, making loud kissing noises against his hair. “Off work yet?” he asked.

Ignatz wasn’t sure what to say. In truth, he’d be off in about an hour.

“Somethin’ wrong, Iggy?” Raphael asked.

Ignatz dared not even look Raphael in the eye for fear that he’d see the tears of frustration welling in his eyes.

“… Ignatz?”

“I’m really busy, Raphael, I don’t have time—!”

Raphael knelt by Ignatz and tipped his face to his own. Still, Ignatz did everything in his power to avoid eye contact.

“You’re done today, you can’t work like this,” Raphael declared.

Ignatz didn’t even put up a fight. He knew when Raphael was right (and he was right quite often). He buried his face into Raphael’s chest while he carried him up the stairs; he shivered once Raphael squeezed him even tighter against him.

“Love you, Pumpkin. I never want you to be sad if I can help it,” Raphael said, kissing Ignatz’s forehead before setting him on their bed. Ignatz appreciated how gentle Raphael’s heart was, even if he accidentally jostled Ignatz around as he tried to take off his slippers and sweatpants. “New PJ’s, and then cuddle?”

Ignatz nodded meekly. Raphael rummaged around in their closet, pulling a pair of briefs, a ratty paint-stained t-shirt (which once belonged to his brother Magnus and had some obscure album cover on it) and a pair of sweatpants Ignatz _swore_ he tossed out months ago.

Ignatz wriggled out of his shirt and underwear with little fanfare, but Raphael smiled wide down on him.

“You’re the prettiest guy in the world, you know that?” he hummed, sitting on the edge of their poorly-made bed, handing Ignatz the clean clothes. “I can’t believe I was allowed to marry you."

“You don’t have to say things like that, Raph,” Ignatz retorted, but still blushed when Raphael placed wet kisses along his stomach.

“But what if I _want_ to say things like that to you?” Raphael blew a half-hearted raspberry against Ignatz’s stomach and he squawked and squirmed. After his undignified noises, he spread his legs slightly, hoping he wouldn’t have to verbally prompt Raphael for further instruction.

It was aways the quickest cure to get his mind off a storm.

Raphael’s crow’s feet deepened. “You need something, Pumpkin?”

Ignatz covered his face, smudging fingerprints on his glasses. “Maybe… Maybe I would feel better if you…”

“If I…?” Raphael laughed. “I’m just playing with you, Iggy. I know what you like.”

Raphael nestled his face between Ignatz’s thighs, placing tiny kisses along the fine hairs lining them. Ignatz hummed and he widened his legs even more.

“Can’t wait to taste you,” Raphael sighed into Ignatz’s pubes. His warm breath tickled the skin there, and Ignatz giggled inadvertently. Raphael spread Ignatz just the slightest bit more, smirking at the sight before him.

They’d done this countless times. (Honestly, Ignatz used to keep a written record of every single act they did, rating several aspects of it on a 1-10 sliding scale, but being eaten out by Raphael became something so frequent that he just simply lost track.) 

Raphael really did look beautiful when he concentrated on things, but Ignatz especially loved how he looked every time he ate him out. Surely it couldn’t have been nearly as good for Raphael as it was for him, but he still felt his contented hums and the warm blush from his face against his pussy.

Ignatz wove his fingers through Raphael’s cow-licked hair, pulled him ever near. Raphael’s tongue rolled over every fold of his, just the right amount of pressure against his clit as he lapped at him.

“Finger me, please!” Ignatz pled, looking down only temporarily at Raphael until he felt that thick middle finger slide into him. “Ah fuck!” he groaned, sounding decidedly unsexy to his own ears.

Raphael groaned in turn, the vibrations from his eager mouth working in tandem with his equally-eager finger. He rhythmically pumped inside Ignatz.

“You don’t have to keep— _a-ah!_ —keep eating me out, Raph, it’s—“

Raphael pulled his face away, the tip of his nose, his upper lip, and chin all slick from Ignatz’s obvious arousal.

“But… But you like it, right?” Raphael’s thin brows knit together in uncertainty. It was a look that didn’t suit him. Ignatz felt even more guilty.

“Most definitely, but it doesn’t seem fair.”

“Of course it’s fair! You think I don’t think about this all the time? Iggy, I try to get out of the gym every day with the goal that I can make you cum twice before dinner!”

Ignatz laughed. The two of them had known each other “since diapers!”, in Raph’s own terms, but Ignatz still adored his unbridled sincerity. Sincerity was still a concept Ignatz was working on, even after all this time.

“Please, Iggy, can I keep going?”

Ignatz pet Raphael’s hair, now sticking up in all sorts of directions from pulling it; only a nice shower would reset its texture back to its natural chaotic state.

“Only if you have sex with me after,” Ignatz closed his eyes and blushed furiously.

“Alriiiight!” Raphael pumped his fist in the air and before Ignatz could chuckle at his childish enthusiasm, he cried out in pleasure as Raphael continued lapping at him and pumping his finger against his g-spot, just the way he liked.

“Fuck yes, fuck _yes_!” Ignatz babbled over and over, his voice growing hoarse and the muscles in his thighs tightening and growing slack again and again. He kicked his feet against Raphael’s back and bit around his fist to stifle his scream in vain as he came. He continued convulsing involuntarily around Raphael’s finger and mouth for what felt like an eternity, lifting himself off the mattress several times until he whined from overstimulation.

“Sorry!” Raphael kissed Ignatz’s kneecaps with a loud “ _mwah_!” He stood up, stretching his arms over his chest and humming some little ditty. Ignatz couldn’t help but stare at the extremely-evident arousal hanging heavy between Raphael’s legs.

“Round two!” Raphael declared before throwing his clothes off of him as if they were on fire. He plopped down on the bed with such force that Ignatz was airborne for a mere second. Ignatz laughed, and Raphael joined in.

Ignatz rummaged around for the perfect pillow to place under his hip; he loved when Raphael fucked him as he lay on his side, when he could trace all those glistening muscles underneath his ink-stained fingernails. He wanted to look up and see Raphael’s sweet and sweaty face wracked in delight, and clench around Raphael’s cock just the way he was meant to.

They fell into that sweet cycle once more. Ignatz didn’t need much prep work after cumming so hard before the more earnest penetration began; he’d been taking Raphael for years, after all. Still, Raphael stretched him out in a way that teetered on overwhelming, and Ignatz loved it.

Ignatz usually met Raphael’s thrusts with fervor, but today, he wanted to indulge in being a little lazy lover. He gripped onto Raph’s toned hips and moaned with each nudge against his g-spot, his heel digging into the muscles rippling along Raphael’s sides.

After a series of long, deep thrusts and Raphael’s thick finger rubbing his clit in soft circles, Ignatz started babbling again, but then _it_ came out of his mouth.

The words he’d managed to keep inside for _years._

The _forbidden_ words. _  
_

“Fuck me, Daddy!”

Ignatz covered his mouth.

Raphael seemed none the wiser, moaning and grunting as he continued rocking back and forth into Ignatz, his eyes shut tight, a single bead of sweat forming along his brow.

Raphael looked like the ancient statues that littered the galleries Ignatz and his family ruminated upon when he and Magnus were young, before Ignatz was… well, _Ignatz_ , he supposed. 

Once Magnus had declared each and every statue “boring” and his parents would shuffle them to the next, Ignatz would sneak lingering glances at them. He was enraptured with the raw power contained by the strength of ancient marble, the ethereal gleam under the faint white museum lights.

But Raphael was better, and Raphael loved _him._

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” Ignatz wailed and, through the practiced joining of their bodies over the years, Raphael roared and spilled inside Ignatz in perfect tandem with Ignatz’s own powerful contractions. Their mouths were sloppy as they found one another, too much saliva connecting them, but it was still sweet nonetheless.

When he finally pulled away, the world around Ignatz was in soft focus; ah, his glasses must have fallen off during their romp. He groped around the mattress for them. He could still make out Raphael’s deep dimples from his wide smile as he beamed down at him.

“Fuck, Iggy. You never cease to amaze me.” Raphael bent over the bed to snatch up Ignatz’s glasses and handed them back to him, all while remaining inside Ignatz (somehow). “Sorry ‘bout knocking your glasses off.”

Ignatz laughed and waived him off.

“More than worth it for sex like that,” he giggled under his breath, and Raphael bellowed with laughter.

“Op!” Raphael smacked his forehead with his meaty palm. “I left the window open this morning. I guess the neighbors know a little bit more about us.”

Ignatz fell back onto the bed, utterly boneless. He was too fucked-out to protest a completely naked Raphael withdrawing from him, but moaned from the lack of being filled. He caught Raphael sauntering to the open window to slam it shut it as he fumbled to put his glasses back on.

Raphael placed his hands on his hips, the perfect pose for Ignatz to mentally sketch every divot and muscle gracing Raphael’s impossibly large frame. Having a personal trainer and professional lunkhead for a husband certainly had its perks.

“Hubba hubba,” Raphael waggled his thin brows as he leaned down to kiss Ignatz’s sweaty hair. “We should shower. I gotta stop by the gym and sort out some paperwork with Leonie tomorrow, but I’m free for the rest of the day!” he called out over his shoulder as he rummaged around for some obscenely large bath towels and walked towards the bathroom. “I figured since she’s the boss, she could help me figure it out.”

“What kind of paperwork?” Ignatz asked, wiping the cum leaking from him as best he could with what little tissues he grabbed from their bedside. He discarded them in the too-full waste bin (full of the remnants of every session they’d had that week. He always underestimated how dirty they got from all their fun, but it was _so_ worth it.)

“Oh, I just had some ideas for some at-home sessions, but I thought maybe she’d want to look over the lesson plans I made. Nothin’ major.”

Thankfully, he and Raph discovered very quickly that buying their little fixer-upper allowed them to put in a rather expansive bathroom, courtesy of the Kirstens’ all-too-generous wedding gift from years prior. Raphael told Ignatz he’d always dreamt of showering or taking a bath with him, but, well… Raphael wasn’t built for “normal” or “average”-sized things in any category: furniture, clothes, shoes, cars, or reasonable grocery bills. 

(Mrs. Kirsten once joked with Ignatz that she and her husband nearly took out a second mortgage to feed Raphael when he joined the football team. Ignatz didn’t believe her until they went on their first formal date: all the color drained from his face as Raph snatched up the bill, spying the total of $300 some odd dollars. All the while Raphael said, “Pumpkin, no worries, I got it”.)

As if reading his mind, Raphael lathered the shampoo in his hair and boomed, “Hey, do you remember that time in high school when I sat next to you in history class so fast that my shirt ripped, and I got dress-coded?”

Ignatz snorted, wiping water from the shower head out of his sensitive eyes. “I still laugh at that sometimes. Mr. Dominic wasn’t too thrilled from what I remember.”

“Yeah, I don’t think he really liked me, especially when that was, like, I think my 7th dress code violation that year? I can’t remember if that was the year before or after I split my pants.”

“I think it was after?” Ignatz squeezed some body wash in his hands and signaled for Raphael to turn around so he could lather his back. “You were close to getting suspended for indecent exposure."

“I thought I was gonna lose my spot on the team! Gah, it was so long ago at this point. All that stuff seemed so important back then, but now that I’m old, I just think it’s more funny than anything.”

Raphael sighed in appreciation as Ignatz scrubbed his back clean.

“You aren’t even _old_ , Raph. I’m older than you, silly!” Ignatz huffed.

“You know, I forget that a lot. Maybe because you’re so tiny. I have to be big and strong for you!”

“You already are, dear.”

After they were thoroughly clean, Ignatz shut off the water and ruffled his hair to get as much water out of it as possible.

“So, uh… You called me “Daddy” during all that. Wanna talk about it?”

Ignatz wobbled and nearly collided with the slick tile floor of the shower, but Raphael caught him.

“No no no! No slipping in the shower! But…But I liked when you called me that. I liked it _a lot_!”

“You did?” Ignatz squeaked, fumbling for the towels and handing one to Raphael. He wrapped one of the towels around his head to hide his face.

“Hell yeah! It made me feel like…” Raphael hummed in thought, looking up at the vents before meeting Ignatz’s gaze again. “Like I could take care of you the way you deserve. That you trust me, that I’m your safe person.”

“That’s really sweet, Raph. Just so you don’t worry, I-I don’t want to have sex with my father!” Ignatz clarified, his voice cracking as he spoke.

“Well I should hope not! Ew. I think I need to cuddle with the animals to get that image out of my mind now.”

As if on cue, Spot hopped into the bathroom, wagging his tail so much that his whole body wiggled. Raphael knelt down and started talking in an excited tone, asking Spot, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s good? You are! Yes, you are!"

It was easy to tell which animals Raphael had named and which Ignatz had. Rockwell was their latest addition, which they’d adopted from the shelter their friend Ashe worked at; he wasn’t a popular pick for families because most were looking for a playful cat. The common complaint among potential adopters was his shyness, but that was what instantly drew Ignatz to him. Rockwell snuggled up to Pirate and Spot on lazy afternoons and liked to watch snow fall outside their windows with Ignatz. Raphael was too loud for Rockwell in the beginning, but he was able to sleep through his raucous Skype calls with his equally-loud family without issue now.

Pirate was “Pirate” because he was missing his left eye. “Plus, pirates are just cool,” a then 19-year-old Raphael declared when they brought baby Pirate home to their college apartment. Pirate was so small that he slept in Raphael’s shoe, his little white fluffy butt in the air and his impossibly tiny face shoved into the toes of the shoe. (Though, to be fair, Ignatz mused, Raphael had monstrous shoes.)

Spot, of course, was named Spot because of the singular caramel blotch covering his right ear and side of his face; Raphael found him behind the dumpster at work and cried over the phone to Ignatz, practically pleading with him to let him keep Spot. Ignatz reassured him that of _course_ Raph could keep him, even though he desperately refreshed his online banking app to see if they could afford the vet bills. They’d just bought the house at that point and were in the throes of their kitchen remodel, but everything worked out.

Everything always worked out with Raphael at the helm.

After Raphael scrounged around for leftovers from dinners past and the two of them dragged out their evening playing video games, Ignatz declared that they really did have to go to bed.

“Five more minutes?” Raphael asked, puppy dog eyes and all.

“Just because you were nice to me today,” Ignatz rolled his head from where it rested on Raphael’s stomach to nuzzle into his shirt. It was hard to watch TV sideways anyways.

“You’re my buddy, I’m nice to you every day!” Raphael patted his head.

“You are,” Ignatz muttered into Raphael’s shirt, wrapping his arms around Raphael’s wide torso.

Raphael muttered a quiet “ _Achhh_ , dammit!” after failing at his objective and saved and quit in quick succession. “Time for bed!”

Raphael hoisted Ignatz up like he weighed nothing at all. Raph was so big, maybe Ignatz _did_ weigh nothing at all to him?

Raphael held Ignatz against him all the way up to the bathroom, placing him on the countertop rather than the floor. They brushed their teeth wordlessly, but Raphael tried tickling Ignatz’s feet and Ignatz scrambled against the countertop and screeched.

“That’s evil!” Ignatz said as best as the toothbrush along his teeth allowed him to annunciate.

“ _Hee hee hee_!” Raphael smirked, waggling his fingers like a cartoon villain as Ignatz finished brushing his teeth. He was creeping ever closer to him.

Ignatz giggled and slid off the counter to run to the bed. Raphael was faster than Ignatz anticipated; he roared as he lifted Ignatz and tossed him on the bed only to tickle him in earnest this time.

“Stop, stop! Mercy!” Ignatz tittered, little tears forming in the outer corners of his eyes as he kicked the lumpy comforter underneath him.

“Alright, but just because you said I’m nice earlier!” Raphael littered Ignatz with kisses.

“Love you,” Ignatz finally huffed as Raphael peeled off of him.

For once, Raphael was quiet. He smiled down at Ignatz, gold eyes dark from the dim light of the bedside lamp. If Ignatz didn’t know any better, Raphael would be some ancient hero awakened from his marble shell.

Ignatz traced the dark contours of Raphael’s muscles through his ratty t-shirt, and his hands wandered down, down, down, though his eyes caught Raphael’s erection before his hands graced it. He maintained eye contact with Raph as he palmed his cock through the terrycloth pants.

“Again?” Ignatz smirked.

“What’s wrong, Pumpkin? You don’t like my enthusiasm?” Raphael pouted a little, but Ignatz could tell it was his playful pout, not his _actual_ distraught pout. Ignatz had seen Raphael’s face for too many years to not know the difference.

Ignatz pulled down Raphael’s pants quick enough to watch his cock spring free.

The first time he and Raphael had been intimate, Ignatz fainted once he saw how freakishly endowed Raphael was. When he came to, a pants-less Raphael sniffled back tears and apologized for how ugly he was. (That was definitely _not_ why Ignatz fainted, and now the two of them snickered when they recollected their utterly awkward first blowjob experience.)

Raphael certainly hadn’t gotten smaller over the years; if anything, he’d just gotten _bigger._ It made Ignatz’s mouth water. He looked up again at Raphael as he licked the underside of his cock; Raphael’s warm eyes widened, one large hand stroking the base of his dick and the other threading through Ignatz’s hair.

They both knew Ignatz’s mouth and throat couldn’t possibly take all of Raphael. He relaxed his throat as best as he could, closed his eyes as he bobbed down as much of Raphael’s thick cock as humanly possible.

“Fuck yeah, Iggy,” Raph groaned, and even though his hand remained on Ignatz’s head, he didn’t push down. He _never_ pushed down. Ignatz loved controlling Raph’s pleasure like this, but hoped that someday he’d be comfortable, well… _using_ him every once in a while.

Still, it was hardly a problem that his husband happened to love him so much he refused to do anything that could possibly hurt him.

Ignatz’s jaw ached, but he didn’t care, not when Raphael lulled his head back, when he said things like “ _You make it so good for me,_ ” when he looked down at Ignatz like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Raphael’s cock was so heavy on his tongue that he could only hum or moan around him in reply. Ignatz reached up to fondle his balls, which nearly dwarfed his hands, but painting and drawing made him dexterous over the years and he had learned just the right ways to touch Raphael.

“Ignatz, wait,” Raphael’s tone was serious, so much so that Ignatz’s eyes fluttered open again and he cocked his brow inquisitively. “I want to paint your face, but only if you want!”

Ignatz smiled in relief. He thought, for a split second, that he was doing something wrong, or worse: that Raphael didn’t want him to keep going.

He hummed in acknowledgement as he withdrew from Raph wet a wet _pop_. “Of course, honey,” Ignatz sighed in contentment, resuming his position on his knees.

His hands roamed Raphael’s strong thighs. He kissed them, laved his tongue against the thick coils of muscle and the layer of plush fat that lined them, all while Raphael stroked himself with fervor. Raphael’s hips canted on their own accord as he twisted his wrist in a particular way. Ignatz’s saliva coated Raphael’s cock, producing an obscene glint in the pale warm light of their bedroom.

“Gonna cum,” Raph grunted out, and before Ignatz could lick his lips in anticipation, his eyes slammed shut and he let out a surprised gasp as several heavy spurts of hot semen hit his face and glasses; they dribbled down his nose and chin before Raphael sighed long and deep.

“Fuuuuuck,” Raphael sighed, chuckling as he knelt down to kiss Ignatz’s now-filthy lips. “Wish I could take a picture of you right now.”

“You could. I-If you’d like. I’d like that.”

“You would?” Raphael cocked his head, his mouth agape.

“Yes,” Ignatz sheepishly confessed. “For your eyes only.”

Raphael fumbled around for his phone. “You wanna pose?” he asked.

Ignatz held up a peace sign and smiled wide, the flash of Raphael’s camera phone surely turning him a sickly pale shade, as it always did.

“Hee hee! So cute! I’m definitely filing this away for later. Been a long time since we sexted,” Raphael hummed as he lazily kicked off his sweatpants and used his boxers to wipe the cum off Ignatz’s face. Ignatz had to retrieve the glasses cleaner he kept in the spritz bottle beside the bed, running over his cum-stained lens several times with a microfiber cloth before giving up.

Ignatz flopped on top of Raphael, knowing after so many times of doing so that his weight did nothing at all to inconvenience his large husband. Raphael pulled up the blankets around them, and just as Ignatz closed his eyes, Raphael’s warm whisper filled the room.

“So…”

“So…?” Ignatz echoed.

“Wanna explore that whole Daddy thing?” Ignatz couldn’t see Raphael in the dark, but he could clearly envision his face, eyebrows knitted together in hesitation. “Because I really want to.”

“You don’t have to say things like that, Raph.”

“But I’m saying it because I mean it. I like taking care of you—I love it! And I think I’m pretty good at it! Plus, just the thought of taking care of you like _that_? Sign me up.”

Ignatz buried his face into Raphael’s chest and shook his head.

“Ignatz, you’re not gonna avoid me like you tried to when you first started having a crush on me. I _know_ you liked that. And if you don’t, we can always stop. But I think this could be fun. Maybe this’ll just be another bonding experience for us!”

Ignatz looked up at Raphael finally. Raphael, of course, was grinning ear-to-ear and ruffled up Ignatz’s hair. He knew in the morning that he would look like an overgrown succulent. But maybe—just maybe—he could blossom under Raphael’s gaze.

“You’re right: I did like it. And… And I’d like to do it more with you.”

Raphael planted a slobbery kiss on his lips, squeezed Ignatz a smidge closer to him, and whispered, “Love you so much, Iggy. Good night.”

“Good night… Daddy,” Ignatz whispered back.


End file.
